


Lightsaber Wrestling

by DestielsDestiny



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: BAMF Poe, Duelling, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Force-Sensitive Poe Dameron, Fun, Games, Gen, Kid Fic, Light Angst, Lightsabers, Sad Leia, Snapshots, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 23:03:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7864972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielsDestiny/pseuds/DestielsDestiny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quick safety tip. Never wrestle while holding an activated lightsaber. Poe missed the memo somehow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lightsaber Wrestling

“Give it back!” A peal of giggles echoes off the forest canopy, mixing seamlessly with bending wood and rustling leaves. 

A compact shape hurtles through the underbrush, black cloth catching on trees and bark indiscriminately. Another shape, slightly larger in frame, tumbles down a tree trunk. 

An arc of blue blazes through the shadowed woods for a moment, tumbling end over end. Branches sizzle, smoke rising in miniature plumes as foliage singes left and right. 

“Ben, give it back!” The giggles get louder, joining with the outraged cries of the larger boy as two small bodies tussle across a bed of leaves and stones. 

Bright green snaps into life, blue streaks left hanging in the air for a moment as a silver hilt hurtles back towards its careless owner’s grip. 

Hiss! The blades crackle as the tips just brush each other. Small boots kick and larger shins. More laughter. 

“Come on Ben, it’s mine. Luke gave it to me.” The blue floats higher, held just outside of its owner’s grasping hand. 

Green sparks set mini blazes off around the boys’ heads, flames mercifully dying before reaching the ground. 

A lightsaber connects with flesh unexpectedly, leaving a charred streak behind. The forest falls abruptly silent. Ben’s lip quivers, his grip on his saber slackening anew. 

Poe lets his fingers brush the burn, feels the ragged edges of his skin. Feels the spark of pain. Sees the spark of shame in Ben’s brown eyes. 

Small arms wrap around smaller shoulders, lit saber forgot on the ground. 

“It’s okay Ben. I’m fine buddy.”

00

Aunt Leia looks mad. Her lips are thin, her eyebrows drawn down. Poe looks at his boots. 

Uncle Han looks amused. “Come on Leia, it’s not like they burnt down the entire glade.”

Ben’s lip trembles. Poe blurts, “We were playing! It was my fault. I took Ben’s lightsaber.”

Aunt Leia looks at Ben for a moment, then looks at Poe for a moment more. 

Her lips twitch upwards. And just like that, they all start laughing. 

It was a good day. 

00

Crates creak and groan, decking dents, ceiling tiles fall. Cascades of blue and green blur together across the length of the hangar. Poe spins his body sideways, narrowly avoiding being run over by Rey’s somersault over Finn’s head. 

“Watch it buddy!” Finn looks back over his shoulder, a hurried “sorry Poe!” spilling from his lips, even as an arc of blue narrowly misses his head.

Poe winces, BB pressing closer to his leg as the crackle of live energy meeting live energy fills the space. 

Rey leaps backwards instead of forwards. Finn’s lightsaber goes flying. Poe doesn’t hesitate. 

00

General Organa’s face is a mask of calm. Rey’s braid is singed. Finn’s cheek is streaked with blood. Poe is holding two lightsabers. BB is nowhere in sight. 

A ceiling tile hits the decking behind them. The General doesn’t even flinch. One eyebrow raises at Poe. 

“Do I want an explanation for this Commander?” Finn looks at his feet. Rey looks at Poe. 

Poe looks at the General, feeling all of eight standard years old. He can’t bring himself to lie to her, not this time. 

“No Ma’am.” 

The General’s other eyebrow twitches, just a little. 

00

The only thing Poe hates more than sand, after Jakku, is wet sand. He’s just formed this conclusion, attempting to prise BB out of the sandy swamp a reservoir leak has turned the fleet gardens into. Only Poe could find a droid that liked flowers. 

A soft voice filters over the sounds of Poe’s ineffectual squelching and BB’s mournful whines. 

“Having difficulties Commander?” 

Poe isn’t sure what possesses him. He’s not angry at Luke, never has been, about anything. Not even his leaving. Somehow though, he just can’t help himself. 

The sand hits Luke square in the mouth. He stands frozen for a moment, before elegantly spitting sand grains out of his teeth. Poe feels his insides ice over a little. 

Sand drips down Luke’s beard. BB trills obnoxiously. Poe quirks a brow at the Jedi. 

And is promptly covered in a pile of sand. 

It is so on. 

00

Luke’s cloak is torn. Poe’s hair is a mess. They are both covered in sand. There isn’t a lightsaber in sight. 

General Leia Organa regards them dispassionately, a sigh barely escaping her firmly closed lips. 

Sand drips onto the decking. Leia’s lip twitches. Luke coughs. BB warbles.

And Poe feels his eyes tear up, because it might just be a twitch, but for the first time in twenty-five years, his Aunt Leia is smiling.


End file.
